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Eli Colter

Federation Marine Corps Captain - F.S.S. Salient Marine Detachment Company Commander

0 · 379 views · located in Arcturus System

a character in “Nebula's Dawn: Lance of Liberty”, as played by VindicatedPurpose

Groups

"Reaching for the stars"

Description

This artwork is not property. This artwork is the property of the Medal of Honor Warfighter video game."If it wasn't for my pride, they'd still be alive. Spare me the PTSD shit, doc. I know what I saw that day. There's no way for me to un-live it."





Name (With Preferred Pronunciation): Eli Colter (E-lie Cole-ter)

Age: 32

Place of Birth: Earth, Sol System

Gender: Male

Occupation: Federation Armed Forces - Marine Corps: F.S.S. Salient Marine Detachment Company Commander - Charlie Company

Rank (If Applicable): Captain

Appearance: He has black hair which he keeps limited to a military buzz cut that is either covered with his tactical beanie or exposed. When it is exposed, the hair is often unkempt as a result of suffocation by the beanie. Luckily though, he doesn't suffer from hat hair. He's rarely clean shaven, but he does shave to a point where some fuzz still remains to mark a five o'clock shadow. This painted shadow lingers on his face as if he were merely an office worker with a crap job working day in and day out. It faintly reminds people of a man who has shrunk his dreams to accommodate his failures.

Other times, he sports a thin beard for the sake of ruggedness. People see his tougher side in play, one that hides his emotion. His eyes are dark brown, there's a faint hint of sadness swirling in them everyday. Above those eyes are bushy eyebrows, the likes of which are not thick nor thin but just right. Under those eyes, are a pair of rings that bear depression, anger, and pain like burdening stones. No matter how hard he tries to hide it with his light humor and good nature, he carries with him several of his fallen comrades' dog tags reminding him of his failure back on Mars. However, before Mars, fellow squad mates would remark on the intensity within his eyes. They were driven, focused, and full of energy.

Height: 5 ft. 11 in.

Weight: 158 lbs.

Personality

General: He's generally calm and laidback, but when he's riled his anger erupts. Not often does he show his hot-blooded nature perhaps because he has something holding it back. His previous experiences may have tempered the steel in his heart into humility. The anger flashes out and he has to pause to rethink his situation and react with a cooler head. It's unnerving, say fellow Marines, seeing a Captain such as him get angry one moment then calm the next, as if he held his anger on a switch that he can easily flick. It's as if he is bipolar, despite his medical records not indicating such a condition.

However, a sense of uncertainty lingers around him as he struggles with his past while keeping his head up and looking forward. Whenever he's alone he contemplates about his fellow squadmates that perished, and that usually brings up anger and frustration. It is a hidden pain that he thinks he'll never overcome. He tends to follow his orders although at times he likes to put a twist in it, simply because he has lost regard for higher ups. Though whenever he's mellow, following a nightmare or another hallucination perhaps, he's got a couple of quips and he'll be anybody's pal.

In a single word, pride, was his rise and fall. His arrogance prior to Mars could be dubbed unrivaled by fellow marines, and Eli wasn't afraid to shirk it off and rub it in their faces. He seeks redemption and absolution from the people who died because of his flaw. They can't talk to him anymore because they're dead, and the ones that are still alive were shipped elsewhere. They constantly tell him it wasn't his fault, but as an adolescent Eli was always one to place blame where he felt it was due. It was a code that he lived by, giving credit, and blame, where they were due. In this case, he felt he deserved all the blame.

Likes: Any card game, in the field operations, a bottle of scotch or bourbon

Dislikes/Phobias: Large gatherings, arrogant hot-shots, any superior officer he doesn't know too well

Quirks/Idiosyncrasies: He carries an ace clubs with one half torn off

Equipment

Constantly Under Development

H&K Armories M38-K Assault Rifle

H&K Armories M67-F Pulse Carbine

Tactical wrist communicator

M-119 Standard Issue Marine Combat Suit - Modified
- Gauntlet communicator
- Tactical HUD
- Bio-Gel injectors

History

Born on Earth, Circa February 11, 2059 S.C.E.

A seasoned veteran with a history in the line of duty. He rose to prominence during the insurgent conflicts, where he displayed his prowess as a leader spearheading large operations. He and those under his command were ranked among the top counter-insurgency units in the Federation.

However, it was this prominence that allowed him to exercise his arrogance, which ultimately proved fatal and costly. During one operation on Mars, he led his squad into an ambush that began with an improvised explosive device. The IED killed three squad members, and crippled two others to the point where they would require permanent life support systems in order to continue living, albeit a scarred and meager existence.

If it were not for the intervention of another squad operating nearby, the rest of Eli's team would have been swarmed by the insurgents. Out of the entire squad, only Eli was left physically unscathed. He was court martialed by a tribunal of top Federation officers, in which he was tried and found innocent and discharged on the grounds that he was suffering from post-traumatic-stress-disorder.

Although the psychologists claim that he suffers from PTSD, Eli believes its more than that as his confidence in his leadership has waned over the years. Although relegated by command to this ship, Eli volunteered to serve on board the F.S.S. Salient on its maiden voyage seeing as how he has nothing left behind him on Earth. He dismisses the illusions of his former comrades, but he realizes that he must seek absolution, even if it is through the fires of war. He hopes that he can protect the men under his command to the best of his ability and leave everything behind, putting to rest the specters that haunt him.

So begins...

Eli Colter's Story

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It was bright. The sun shone quietly as the bits and grains of sand scarves crawled along the ground. Eight shadows intermingled with the blustering wind that spit the sand upwards. Eight marines, their rifles tucked close to their armored bodies as they moved through the old slums. The destitute shelters were lined up along the slope of the hill, they were stacked upon each other like agglomerations. These shanty towns lacked access to public services and sanitation, thus the people lived in squalor. It was the perfect location for insurgent cells to operate from.

Outlaw Team, this is command. Your targets are situated at Alpha Quadrant Sector 32, do you copy?

Loud as day, command, we got it from here.

Just so you know, we've got Walker in Sector 30 and he'll be ready to support whenever you need him.

Understood command, but I think this'll just be a mop-up operation. We cleared this area last week, no doubt the place will just be full of stragglers.

You know, I really don't get what the big deal is with calling for help, there's no need for you to show off, Colter. I mean, these guys aren't your usual run of the mill type innies you're dealing with here. Last week they detonated a car bomb that wiped out two Wolverines which was a detail of about eight guys, and you know what? You're leading a detail of eight guys! So I suggest you listen carefu--

Love you too, Vic.

Eli closed the communication channel, and led the group through the old slums. Rust City, Mars, lived up to its name, despite its large industrial works, the structures seemed to be rusting, or perhaps that was just the Martian sand.

"Boss, he was only trying to help," P.F.C. Solomon spoke over the helmet comms. He was fairly young to be a P.F.C., and he didn't seem to be the type to shoot a gun. Killing, wasn't something that came naturally to him, and that made him seem more of the younger brother in the group. The kid that nobody wanted to see dead.

"Noted, Private, but Vic--"

"Has a habit of worrying too much," Sanders finished the Captain's sentence before he could do it himself, "I mean it's not like a marine dies everyday, oh wait, I forgot..."

Eli had forgotten Sanders' habit of sarcasm, which seemed to rear its head almost everywhere. At times it was funny, and at times it seemed he was trying to get a point across, albeit in a harsh manner.

"Yeah? Sanders, did I ever tell you my marine death rate so far?" Eli scoped out ahead, his rifle darting from side to side as he moved forward slowly. The lime green HUD monitor in his helmet's screen did not detect any visible hostiles.

"Yeah, boss. Zero. As always..." Eli would have seen the private roll his eyes had it not been for his helmet, "I'm sure Vic had nothing to worry about."

"Good job Sanders. Maybe when you get to be half as smart as I am, you can take command." Eli chuckled.

"Ellsworth, Minigan, and Ferrar, shore up the right side." Eli commanded. The three marines shifted their positions to Eli's right, as he led through the center. They eyed the surrounding backstreets with caution, with their fingers on the trigger, ready to open fire on any hostile that attempted to shove his face in their view.

"Boss man dun' laid a chop sesh' on you Sanders." Demus laughed.

"Brooklyn, you---"

Time stood still. Spurts of red mist began to land on Eli's visor, they dropped like pellets being dragged across his view, leaving trails.

Dust and sand swirled to form a storm that shrouded Eli's field of vision. Something red and fleshy smacked across his helmet and smeared blood across his view. Everything seemed to be flying left. He looked around, the sand was still held high like a curtain around him. He blinked once, then again. His head blinked once, then again, while his hands clung to his rifle. He couldn't move them apart. Sanders' voice came over the comm, or at least he thought it was Sanders' voice.

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"This is Outlaw Team, requesting tactical support ASAP!" it was Brooklyn over the comm link while Eli watched him strafe his light machine gun at enemies hidden in the clouds of sand.

"Someone get his legs!" Eli heard randomly over the comm. Bullets and their tracers were zipping past him, as cracks rattled around him. His HUD blinked the word "Error" in a light red hue as he spotted Jin crouched behind a barricade consisting of old industrial pipes. The private held his rifle over the bulwark and fired at random.

Then he heard nothing.

He looked around, there was sand and dust everywhere. Then there was some red stuff painted all around the ground, and bits of metal. There were chunks of meat on the ground, but it wasn't meat.

He couldn't see anything except for a shadow in the distance. The shadow began to define itself more clearly as the sand and dust died down. It was Solomon, his face was...very...anguished. There was blood and sand all over his face, blood and sand. His helmet had been blown off, and the part of his helm that was cracked revealed shards of metal planted into his cheeks with blood streaming out. He was bleeding from his eyes.

"Captain!" Eli heard over the comm, he couldn't distinguish the voice. It sounded like Mendez...or maybe it was Brooklyn.

"Lay down some suppressing fire Mendez!" that one sounded like Jin's voice...or was it Minigan...

Gunfire spurted and crackled repetitively like a nightmarish song, but nothing was pleasant about it to be called a song. It all seemed very blurry to Eli, the sand, the red mist, the metal.

Captain...

He turned to look at Solomon again, he was screaming, but Eli heard nothing. He saw that the private's legs were completely gone, all that was left was a pile of flesh and a pool of blood getting drier and drier as it seeped into the sand.

Sanders?

You're leading a detail of eight guys...boss man dun laid a chop sesh on you...

Eli glanced away from Solomon, and he looked to Ferrar. He looked like some deformed creature, he didn't look like a human being anymore. With his entire right side ripped off, Eli couldn't tell where his armor began, or where his flesh ended, but he saw the blood. It was smeared all over Ferrar's face and he had this ghastly look, his eyes were open wide and staring blankly at Eli. The private was still gasping for breath, blood gurgled from his mouth. He was clinging to his life, but something told the captain that he was already dead.

loud as day, command...there's no need for you to show off...

"Son of a bitch! Captain! We're pinned down!" Was that Brooklyn? Or Ellsworth?

outlaw team, this is command...has a habit of worrrying too much...

"Captain! What do we do?!"

love you too, vic...someone get his legs captain calling for help

"Captain!"

suppressing last week...it's not like a marine dies everyday

do you copy targets situated this week got it from zero

marine death everyday command to as always

nothing was only trying too much Colter

worrying to half as smart

captain...


It was dark, and beads of sweat formed on Eli's forehead, the lamp in his quarters had not activated yet. He looked around him, darting from corner to corner in his room. He gasped for several moments before he buried his face in his hands.

The setting changes from arcturus-system to The Milky Way Galaxy

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Eli had just gotten out of his quarters, when a couple of personnel rushed past him and almost bumped into him. They seemed very excited, as if they were going to watch a driftball game.

"Hey, soldier, where are you going?" Eli asked.

"To the hangar, sir. Iridosis Station repair crews are currently trying to repair the outer layer of the ship's hull. We were ordered to get down there to assist."

Severe damage, Eli thought, he didn't realize that the ship was in such a terrible state. Back near Themos V, the ship had withstood an armada of pirate ships, and the majority of the crew that wasn't at their battle stations, mainly the marines, were resting comfortably in the R&R rooms, the Mess Halls, or even training in the barracks. Though for the most part, the majority of the crew was on alert and aware that the ship was being attacked...on the outside. The pirates hadn't dare launch any boarding parties, and that came as a relief to the marines more than to the naval personnel. As for Eli, he didn't really care, he was still focused on Ulric's situation, wondering if the guy had made it out alive. Eli had to leave him behind, Ulric didn't have enough time to get to Ray's gunship. Not that it mattered anymore, because Eli later found out that Ray was counted among the KIAs: he had dove headlong into five hundred klicks of laser fire coming from the pirate armada.

It seemed people were dying left and right, and this was a simple reconnaissance mission. Hell, Eli didn't even know what to call it anymore, it seemed more like a tactical retreat following that battle. Now they were walking, no, limping to a repair station. Didn't make sense for shit. Then again, it never does. He found himself in the Hangar Control Center of the Salient.

"Alright Hyena, field seems clear, you've got green to return to base." Victor Keshek placed the headset down as he saw Eli enter the Control Center.

"Another visit? What brings you to this desolate place?" the Control Center was buzzing as always, with personnel managing space traffic of the Salient's attached air wings. Victor was quite a sarcastic man, he'd seen better days, but it seemed the older one got, the more cynical they became. Experience, people witness things, they can't un-touch it, they can't un-live it.

"Not much, I was just heading to the Hangar, er Mess Hall."

"To the Mess? What for, you didn't eat?" Victor grinned.

"I was about to ask you that, you've been here all day haven't you?"

"Yep, a traffic controller's duties never end, especially with those fighter jocks."

The setting changes from the-milky-way-galaxy to Arcturus System

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Character Portrait: Eli Colter Character Portrait: Jessica MacPhearson
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Maybe he'd forgotten to take his finger off the button. Maybe it was shorted. Maybe it was just Murphy, lining up another punchline, but poor Victor Keshek had left his mic keyed, and there wasnt a pilot aboard that would miss an opportunity to yank the bastard's chain. After all, he never missed a chance to call a pilot on a sloppy landing, or snark at them for launching late, and took positive delight at tying them in a holding pattern when they -really- had to go to the bathroom. All's fair in love, war, and flight deck shenanigans.

<Love you too, Control. By the by, I seem to be having some trouble with my electrical...> Hyena's voice trails off slyly.

The Rapier had been visible lining up on the hangar bay by virtue of its winking nav lights and a brilliant white landing beacon. All at once, however, those signals darken, rendering the darkly-hulled fighter all but invisible in the black. With repair shuttles zipping to and fro, debris from the Salient a navigational nightmare, and the Rapier now god-knew-where, it was a collision waiting to happen and a Controller's absolute worst scenario.

There is only static, when the inevitable demand for restored lights comes. The silence hangs thickly as another civilian repair craft shoots across the hangar's open bay, a streak of white oblivious to the multi-ton projectile somewhere in its vicinity.

No response comes, despite the rising pitch and volume of Victor's transmissions, but -just- a hair before Victor was ready to call an actual flight path emergency to the other craft in his purview, a white light blazes blindingly in the control window's direction; Hyena's Rapier zipping rapidly into the hangar with all lights blazing. Engine roaring as it powers to support the craft in a landing hover, now that it's within the hangar's gravity, she is barely visible over the glare, waving cheekily.

<Oh, hey! Fixed it, Control! Wow, lucky break, -that- could've been embarrassing.>

The Rapier settles down, tame as you please, into its appointed place amongst the mess, and the canopy pops open. Hyena removes her helmet and makes a show of calmly patting her short hair back into place before climbing down.

Inappropriate, dangerous, irregular... the act had been all these things. But it was also just a small slice of 'normal' held against the chaos of the repairs and the still-fresh memory of people that had not come home. If she had to make herself the target of retribution and punishment to give these people something to laugh about? Well, that was something she was good at.

Turning in her equipment and making a brief report into the flight logs about her happily uneventful CAP flight, Hyena leaves the hangar, intent on a hot meal and a warm bunk.

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F.S.S. Salient
Victor, to put it delicately, palmed his face as he put down his headset. The two personnel sitting next to him had smiles on their faces, it was the usual Victor, comically angry. He donned his headset once more.

"Cripes girl! You nearly gave me a heart attack and I'm only forty two!" Victor barked. He turned to Eli, shook his head in disdain.

Eli chuckled, "Fighter jocks right?"

"Eh, to hell with them!" Victor cried while typing some keys at his console.

Eli flicked him a look with an eyebrow raised.

"What?" Victor asked, prodding for an answer from Eli, to which the captain stayed silent to the controller.

Then he sighed, "Sometimes I wonder why I even have this job, or why I even bothered to volunteer on this ship. The truth is..." he had his hands in front of him, gesturing a wait-for-it moment, "I didn't volunteer to be here. I got assigned to this job, without my consent, but...what are yah gonna do."

"To be honest though, I wouldn't have it any other way. Without them, I'm sure my job would be a hell of a lot more boring. Sure, occasionally, there's a dropship pilot that has attitude, which makes talking on here a little less boring."

"Aw thanks Vic," said a random pilot over the comm, "Brings tears to my eyes, a true hero."

"Shut up you!" Victor barked through the comm.

He looked at Eli, "I need to remember to take off my headset and turn it off," then he proceeded to turn off the headset.

"Sounds like you need a woman," Eli laughed and pointed out.

Victor shot him a glance, "Don't start with me boy,"

He glanced at the feed showing the hangar, "I'd better get down there to check out the problem...before it gets worse. You know these fighter pilots..." he sighed.

"Sure they talk a big game outside in space, but in the hangar, when there's a problem, they're like babies...and guess what? I'm babysitting."

Eli chuckled, "I'll tag along, just uh...don't put me in a diaper." Victor glared at Eli again just as he pulled out a cigar.

He proceeded to offer the captain one, to which Eli responded with a gesture and telling him, "No, but thank you."

They entered the nearest lift, Victor pressed some keys on the terminal, and the pad descended into the lower levels.

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F.S.S. Salient

Eli and Victor entered the main hangar, which was where the majority of the Salient's fighter complement rested. They main hangar was connected directly to all the vehicle bays, which allowed the transports to easily pick up and deliver ground support where it was needed. Unlike the secondary hangars, the main hangar was in an enclosed and confined facility in the middle of the Salient's hull. The main hangar was connected via tubes and tunnels to the secondary hangars which were located on the ship's port and starboard sides with kinetic barriers to block out vacuum.

The secondary hangars only had a small complement of fighters on hand at all times, these units were first-responders, reacting quickly to engage hostiles. First-responders were trained to react on a moment's notice, they almost lived, breathed, ate, and slept in the secondary hangars...almost. They were a stopgap to give time to units in the main hangar to equip and deploy while the first-responders fended off the hostiles. The Salient did not keep many fighters in the secondary hangars due to boarding parties. Boarding parties would quickly set up explosives and destroy vital craft in a ship's armament, thus weakening it.

The two men caught a group of engineers surrounding the Rapier.

"What seems to be the problem," Victor inquired as he pulled away the cigar while eyeing the contours of the fighter.

It wasn't exactly eye-candy, but one had to admit that it was a unique fighter in its own right. Quad guns mounted on the wings and a pair of large engines that provided the thrust were the trademark of this fighter. It was currently being phased out of service for the sleeker Phantom Class Interceptors.

"Eh, I think there's something wrong with her electrical thingy. At least that's what the pilot told us." several sparks flew onto the engineer's mask as he laid on his back trying to re-integrate the wires in the fighter's underbelly.

"Electrical thingy?" Victor's eyebrow raised.

"Uh yeah, sorry, I think it had something to do with the electrical circuitry of her forward thrusters and communications," the engineer replied while some more sparks sputtered.

"I know about the comm, she wasn't returning anything over the transmissions. The thrusters? What exactly happened?"

"Well, we saw her comin' in kinda' rickety...if you want to call it that. We thought she was gonna hit another fighter," another mechanic gestured with his hands showing a fighter craft landing.

"We managed to isolate the problem, somethin' was up with the wiring. It was probably damaged during the battle...probably wouldn't have happened if she got one of those new Phantoms."

"Blame the budget committee for that boys," Victor took a puff.

"Heh, yeah, well the problem seems to be under control for now. If it happens again, no doubt we'll have to take her apart and check if there's something else goin' on. The pilot was lucky this time around, I can't say for sure the next time though."

"Hmm, alright well, excellent work boys, if you need me, call me on comm."

"Roger wilco Vic." the mechanics returned to patching up the Rapier's belly while Eli and Victor left the main hangar.

They strode through brightly lit corridors to the Mess Hall, where they found some seats at a table, unaware of what had just transpired in the Mess. They didn't miss the pilots bragging or the Marines shoveling down food and getting ready for seconds. Victor and Eli tapped several keys on the table's interface, as the machine whirred into being. The MRE packs slipped out of the machine's hatches along with canned drinks. Victor opened the pack quickly, it was some sliced pork with some orange liquid drenched atop with vegetables on the side, and a small packet of apple sauce.

"So how's it goin' lately? I heard you were sent onto one of those pirate frigates that got disabled by the main gun." Victor chewed on piece of pork, trying to sate the appetite he worked up while yelling at pilots.

"Uh, yeah. A five man team, we were inserted by gunship...I found out the pilot died after he took us home." Eli dug into his pasta with a fork.

"Ah geez, who was he?"

"Uh, Peter "Ray" Davidson? Heard of him?" Eli lifted a piece of conchiglie with tomato sauce into his mouth.

"Him, yep I remember him, a British kid. He was a Unit Commander, gunship pilot. Nice manners." Victor cut a swath through the pork on his plate.

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Character Portrait: Eli Colter Character Portrait: Courtney "Rich Girl" Reynold Character Portrait: Alice Chen
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F.S.S. Salient

Eli lifted three pieces of conchiglie into his mouth and chewed away. He was a marine, and he ate like one. Victor wasn't, but...he ate like one as well. Several marines nearby had an outburst of laughter, which drew their attention only temporarily. They noticed a naval officer saunter by, his face was green. He looked like the Mess had given him something that he didn't agree with. A few minutes passed by since Victor last spoke.

"You're pretty quiet today kid, somethin' wrong?" Victor scarfed down some more of his pork.

Eli was staring past his food, he chewed to a stop once Victor spoke.

"Hmm, oh, nothin'." Eli continued chewing again, while staring at his food.

Victor eyed him suspiciously, he knew that look that Eli had.

"You didn't...you didn't have those hallucinations again did you?" Victor inquired, he had paused eating.

Eli looked up at him, "No," he looked down at this food again. He pushed aside several squishy pieces of pasta on his plate with his fork.

"I had one of those dreams." Eli paused.

Victor closed his eyes for a moment, before they flitted open and zipped from his plate to Eli. "Did you go to the med?"

"What for?" Eli asked.

"Kid, this has been happening to you for awhile now. This isn't normal, and I think it would help if you went to see a shrink." Victor laid down his fork and knife.

Eli chuckled at the thought, "A shrink? Vic, comon'..."

"Damn it Colter, I thought what happened on Mars would have knocked some sense into you so that you'd actually grow a pair to confront your mistakes. For God's sake, it wasn't even your fault. You know what your issue is? You're stubborn as hell. The only mistake you made that day was not listening to me. Nobody would have known what would have happened, but shit happened. And you know what? It's time for you move on." Victor jabbed a finger at Eli.

Eli remained silent, staring at his food, his mouth closed.

"Kid, snap out of it alright? Things happen, people die. Enough with the guilt, I'm getting too damn old for this shit," the last word crashed on Eli's ear.

Eli sighed, "I'm trying."

"You're not trying hard enough. Those men aren't gonna' come back." Victor paused, "If you're seeking absolution, I'm not the one you should talk to." Victor rose and took his plate and utensils with him to dispose of.

"These hallucinations and dreams aren't...normal. It might be PTS-"

"It's not PTSD," Eli stopped him there, "It's nothing."

"Oh no, it's something," Victor nodded with conviction.

Eli remained silent for a couple of minutes, "Those men aren't gonna' come back."

"No. No they won't. They can't talk to you, but I'm sure they can listen." Victor patted him on the shoulder.

--------------------

Atomsk watched Lieutenant Commander Chen slip through the metallic blast door after the guard waved her in. He remained outside of the makeshift cell awaiting the conclusion of the interrogation. He was hoping that the Lieutenant Commander would pry the pirate for information regarding the movements of their fleets, or at least find enough evidence to incriminate her for charges of treason. Plus the bitch had killed several of his men, he would see to it that she wasn't getting out early on good behavior.

He stared straight on at Courtney through the feed as he watched Alice begin her interrogation. There was a scowl on his face, one that was intensely focused and characteristically belonged to Atomsk.

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Character Portrait: Eli Colter Character Portrait: Doctor Marcus Bergman
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F.S.S. Salient

Eli left the mess hall, a bit distracted and detached. He wandered through the corridors, passing nearby personnel who didn't seem to notice him. He thought about going to the barracks, but they were probably in training sessions at the moment, and he couldn't interrupt them. As he passed by a viewport, he decided to stop and take a look at the galaxy. He leaned his body against the rail, as he stared intently into space. It seemed like nothing new to him, just billions upon billions of dazzling stars. He wondered what they were for, then he shifted his gaze to the planet of New Sidney off in the distance. The ball of rock and dust was characteristically defined by the light brown color that painted the planet and white of the swirling clouds in its atmosphere. The captain wondered what sort of hell that the planet had been through.

Then he thought about Earth and then Mars, someone get his legs! and at that moment a headache encroached upon him. He raised his palm to rub his forehead at the spot where the ache was splitting his head. Eli shook his head and blinked several times, trying to shrug off it off. He thought about going to the medical bay, but he felt like something was holding him back. He dismissed it as nothing and decided to head to the medical bay.

- - - - - - - -


"Doesn't seem to be anything wrong, Captain," Doctor Bergman handed him a tablet displaying the brainscan. Eli wasn't exactly an expert to interpret a diagnostics scan, to him it was just a variety of green, yellow, and red spots all around what was supposedly his brain.

"Note the green and yellow areas are larger than the red areas, which means your brain activity is at a normal level," Marcus commented.

"As for the headaches, I recommend that you take some of these," the medic handed him a bottle of tablets.

"Take them after a meal, once every twenty four standard military hours, and then perhaps some rest."

"Alright," Eli refrained from reaching his forehead with his hand.

"I trust you'll do what I say, Captain?" Marcus glanced at Eli.

"Seems easy enough, thanks." Eli left the infirmary promptly and walked alone in the corridor, passing other personnel, to his quarters. He seemed to be stumbling, and walking unevenly.